


Heavy Rope

by myracingthoughts



Series: Darcy Lewis Bingo [13]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Assault, Bodyguard, Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark's Daughter, F/M, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Protective Bucky Barnes, Secrets, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:40:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myracingthoughts/pseuds/myracingthoughts
Summary: A bunch of lab rats, a hostage situation, and a strange request from Steve Rogers. Something just isn’t right about this case, but Bucky can’t seem to figure out why.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis
Series: Darcy Lewis Bingo [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927495
Comments: 95
Kudos: 409
Collections: Darcy Lewis Bingo





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for Darcy Lewis Bingo and checks off box A4: Bodyguard (and marks my first bingo line!).

“Buck, can I talk to you?”

Steve Rogers had his determined walk on today— almost more of a strut —like he was about to give marching orders. Had it not been for the scene in front of him, Bucky Barnes would have wondered what brought him up this way. Bucky didn’t typically frequent this floor, but the whispers about what had happened made it all the way to the common room, so he figured he’d take a look. Steve caught him in the halls of Avengers Tower, staring at the wreckage among the swarming clean-up crew. 

Bits and pieces of drywall and shatterproof glass rolled down the halls in giant garbage bins. 

It was an absolute mess, and the only team within eyeshot was Damage Control. Usually relegated to battlefields and structural battle casualties out in the real world, Bucky couldn’t remember ever seeing their hard-to-miss branded red jumpsuits _in_ Avengers Tower before. 

Especially not on the job.

Seeing the way his jaw clenched shut at the scene, Steve was probably here to see the damage for himself.

“Is it about this disaster?” Bucky didn’t wait for Steve’s confirmation, staring in awe at the broken equipment being carted away. “Who the hell does Stark have running his security, anyhow?”

Would have had to have been an idiot to let something this big happen right under their nose.

“About that,” Steve started vaguely. “Let’s talk in my office.”

Steve had Bucky’s full attention now as he wound him down the stairwell and through the hallways towards his office. He noticed the cereal bowl that sat abandoned on the desk, coffee cup half-full and far from hot. Bucky took a seat in the office chair across from Steve’s. 

Rogers had that mother hen look about him. The one were he worried so hard his forehead creases had creases. And Bucky had a very particular gut feeling. 

He just _knew_ Steve was about to ask him to help him out with some hare-brained scheme.

“Tony asked the lab workers to take two weeks off,” Steve started, elbows leaning heavily on the desk. “You know, to decompress, get some help, whatever they need to process.”

Bucky nodded, imaging just how freaked out they had probably been by the looks of things. And Stark’s call to get them out for a couple of weeks sounded standard from a liability standpoint. Were two weeks enough for a normal human being to get over having a gun shoved in their face? Against their temple?

He was so desensitized to it at this point that it was hard to know.

“But once they’re back, I’m wondering if you can look after Jane Foster’s team for a bit. Personally,” Steve leaned, looking more than a little torn about his request.

The corners of Bucky’s lips flicked up, “You want me? To look after _people_?”

Sure, sounded like something right up the Winter Soldier’s alley. Bucky could have rolled his eyes at the ask, but something in Steve’s expression told him there was more than he was saying. Somehow this was more important than he was willing to say out loud.

Steve sighed like he’d been expecting that reaction.

“You’re good at your job, Buck. And Stark’s worried about an attempted do-over.”

His _job_. As if he’d actually been able to do it lately. Stark was the one who refused to clear him for top-tier team fieldwork. Blow up a building and _suddenly_ he wasn’t a good fit for missions. He’d been stuck on shitty recon and sniper duty for ages. 

But, this gig would be cushier than sitting out in the bush staring through a scope for hours on end.

“If I do this for you —let’s be real, for _Stark_ ,” he spat the name like it was a curse word, “do I get to go on real missions again?”

Steve’s expression barely flickered, a sigh escaping as he answered, “Yeah, Buck. Already cleared it with him.”

He looked at Steve for confirmation, not that he would have ever lied to him —maybe lie by omission or a little twist of the trust, but never an all-out lie. Instead, Bucky waited for him to drop inevitable strings attached, but they never came. 

Well, all things considered, that sounded like a good enough deal for him. 

“Do you know what happened?” Bucky asked, shuffling forward in his chair, maybe a little too eagerly. If he was going to be working on this, he’d need background just like it was any other case.

Steve’s forehead creased a little deeper, a flash of something across his face that Bucky couldn’t quite read. There was something here. He knew Steve well enough to know there was no way his hunch was wrong.

“A few scientists were held hostage before security could get the situation under control,” Steve explained. “Tony’s at a loss, Buck. He’s still not sure how the hell anyone had managed to breach the Tower security, never mind what exactly they were after. He’s assuming it’s the usual; fishing for tech or specs. Smash and grab.”

“But then why take hostages?” Bucky asked, and it looked like Steve had asked himself the same.

Steve shrugged, “No idea. The perps took themselves out of the equation before we could even get them in for questioning.”

“So, you’re hoping I can find something his team couldn’t?”

“Worst case, you keep them a hell of a lot safer than they would have been,” Steve added solemnly. “But yeah, anything you can get that Tony’s team couldn’t would be helpful in the long-run.”

Steve was still giving him that look. That one he couldn’t quite get a read on. He flipped through the facts collected so far, and sure, none of it seemed to add up. Did cases ever really add up when they landed in his lap?

“What’re you really worried about here, Stevie? There something you’re not telling me?”

But this one was especially odd. Steve wasn’t head of SI security, and Bucky knew for a fact that Dr. Foster hadn’t even been in the Tower when they were attacked— strange if they were trying to get her research.

So what was the real ask here?

He could have easily pulled up the security footage himself, dug into it a little deeper. Come to think of it, he probably would, but something about the way Steve glossed over the details rubbed him the wrong way.

“I don’t know any more than what I told you, Buck,” he replied a little too quickly.

Bucky furrowed his brow a little at that one but nodded. He knew Steve wouldn’t be asking him if it wasn’t important, and as much as he wanted to give him a little bit of shit for putting him on security duty, he’d let it go for now.

If it would get him closer to getting back out to his actual job, so be it.

“Alright, well. Sure, I’ll do it,” Bucky agreed finally.

Steve clapped him on the back and promised to send over the employee files.

Bucky had some reading to do.

* * *

Bucky spent those next two weeks pouring over HR notes, police reports, a little bit of previous footage —a lot had been deleted during the attack— and inspecting the repaired space to find the best vantage points. Likely entry, likely exit, blindspots in the security camera setup, equipment that might have drowned out the audio. 

The works.

It wasn’t like he’d be going on big-boy missions anytime soon, so this little favour for Steve ended up becoming a bit of a side project. But the biggest missing piece of the whole puzzle, the unknown and unpredictable variable, in any case, was the people. 

And he’d have to wait for them to arrive if he wanted to assess that situation. 

Steve introduced him to the staff as an additional safety precaution, but Bucky’d bet it was to make the former Winter Soldier look a little less scary. Maybe even approachable, if anyone would consider him that, but none of them looked like they were going to cower in fear at the sight of him, so that was an upgrade.

The first day back was just profiling, as he sat in a relatively quiet corner of the lab. Getting together who was there, why, relationships, weaknesses, anything he could see, hear or smell. And it seemed pretty standard— not that Bucky had spent a lot of time in labs when he wasn’t the test subject. 

Doctor Foster was thin, fair and forgetful. A little malnourished maybe, considering he’d only seen her consume about six cups of coffee and a bagel, but brilliant. He could see the way Tony looked at her when he was around, and even he didn’t like stepping on her toes.

“Do you need anything? Coffee, water or food?” Foster’s assistant asked him, forcing him to brush his hair out of his eyes to look up at her from his seat. “I assume you need to be fed and watered like everyone else,” she added with the hint of a smile.

Her assistant, Darcy Lewis, was probably the only reason she ate anything. A mess of brown hair, thick-framed glasses, and a perpetual smile on her face. She knew the ins and outs of the lab, effortlessly weaving between lab rats without getting in their way, and keeping a close eye on the Doc. It was an interesting dynamic, this caretaker and helpless genius thing they had going on, but Lewis was endearing, as much as she sometimes bordered on filterless.

“I’m good, Ms. Lewis, thank you.”

She scrunched her face, “Ms. Lewis was my mother. Darcy’s fine.”

Bucky nodded, tucking it away for the unlikely future scenario of her continuing to talk to him. Eventually, she’d just give up like the rest of them, and he’d be back to focus on the job at hand. But she didn’t; every day after that, she’d check in with him the same way she did the Doc, hovering and motherly in her way.

And always with the same insistence on calling her ‘Darcy.’

For the first week on the job, Bucky didn’t know why Steve asked him to do this. Not that he had anything better to do —Tony still hadn’t cleared him for team missions— but any Stark security guard could have watched the tapes, paced the halls, monitored the ins and outs. Bucky floated between sitting in the lab to just outside of it. Some days he watched remotely from the cameras, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He was always close enough to rush in, should things go wrong. But nothing did. 

But on the eleventh morning, he could sense it as soon as he walked into the lab. Something was off. It took a few minutes to place it, but it was hard to look away once he did.

Doctor Foster was running tests on some clunky machinery, the knobs and buttons tactile and noisy. And every turn of a particular dial would send a jolt right through Darcy Lewis. It wrenched her out of her work, eyes glazed as her entire body went rigid.

Bucky immediately knew what the clunker sounded like. He’s heard it a million times before in wildly different contexts.

The knob sounded just like the safety of a gun.

Bucky could see her trying to piece it together, the crease in her brow, the same breathless expression over and over again. She probably didn’t even know why she was doing it herself. It was the fifth time when he stepped in, feeling like he was watching someone’s very personal breakdown in slow motion.

“Ms. Lewis?”

Her head snapped up at an unnatural speed, eyes wide as she managed to murmur a little breathless, “It’s really just Darcy, dude.”

That was probably the first —and hopefully, the last— time Bucky had ever been called _dude_ , but he’d forgive her considering the circumstances. She hadn’t looked up from the book she’d been pretending to read, hands shaking slightly as she hunched over the desk.

“ _Darcy_ , do you know where the kitchen is on this floor? I was hoping to get a coffee, and honestly, I’d rather make one myself — and the machine on my floor’s always on the fritz because of Stark’s tinkering.” 

It was a natural enough lie that she bought it, lip quirking as she nodded.

“Sure,” she pushed back from the desk. “I’ll show you. I could use one myself.”

Darcy was still a little shaky as she led him through the maze of labs and offices, down long hallways filled with doors, until they reached an open area that included a little kitchenette. It wasn’t that different from the one on the common room floor in the Avengers’ residential block, including the full carafe of coffee and how empty the space was.

Only the occasional security guard waltzed by, popping their head around corners to check-in.

Before Bucky could even ask where they kept the mugs, Darcy was already reaching into a cupboard and pulling out a pair. She poured them both before sliding one across the counter into Bucky’s waiting hand.

“You knew where the kitchen was, didn’t you?”

Bucky hummed noncommittally, taking a sip of his coffee as she continued to eye him, “Just figured you might need a break.”

But she knew better than to take his comment at face value.

“Thanks. I’m still a little jumpy, I guess,” Darcy admitted quietly, leaning her hip against the counter.

Up close, in this light, he could see the dark circles under her eyes, the pieces of hair sticking out of her braid at odd angles, and the fact she’d taken up biting her fingernails. She could’ve used a couple more weeks out of the office from what he could tell.

What the hell was Stark thinking letting them back this early? Weren’t they subject to the same psych screening everyone else was after trauma?

“S’normal,” Bucky offered. “All things considered.”

It was her turn to stare. Bucky’d probably said more words today than he did the last eleven, even getting close to a full-blown conversation. Her eyes wandered from his eyes to his hand, following the lines and grooves of the dark metal. 

“Was it Tony that asked for you to be here?” Darcy asked as her eyes snapped back to his, catching him off guard.

Schooling his expression, he kept his voice level, “What makes you think that?”

She shrugged, probably sensing he wasn’t going to bite on that one, “He seemed worried.”

“What do you think he’s worried about?” 

She shrugged and pressed her lips into a thin line, teeth catching as her eyes glued themselves to the mug in her hands. A sure tell of a lie by omission if he’d ever seen one.

And he’d seen a million different versions of it in his lifetime.

“Anyway,” she started, pushing off from her leaning spot against the counter. “I should get back to the lab.” She seemed to hesitate, mid-step, as she walked back. Spinning on her heel, she caught his eyes again, “Thanks. For noticing.”

Bucky nodded, a little perplexed as he tried to put together this whole thing. The stick-up, the girl, how Tony somehow fit into the entire thing. Why he was here— that was a lingering question mark.

Tony Stark could afford any other bodyguard without blinking. Probably never looked at a price tag his whole life. So why the hell was he trusting someone he wouldn’t let out on a mission with his crown jewel scientist?

He needed to get to the bottom of this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick shoutout to every single one of you! I love and appreciate each and every comment. Thanks for being the best readers out there!

“I need to ask you a favour.”

Bucky Barnes didn’t ask for favours, not from anyone, not for anything. But here he was, leaning on the inside of Steve Rogers’s office door, at a loss and begrudgingly needing help from the ‘man with a plan’ himself. Bucky had a cup of coffee in his hands, still steaming and poured by science wrangler Darcy Lewis. 

Her voice still rang in his head. The tired eyes, the faint smile. All hallmarks of not enough sleep and something _else_ seemingly lurking beneath the surface.

And he hated it. He hated that it had been eleven days on this stupid job, and he was no closer to figuring out why someone had decided to target Foster’s lab rats —and clearly not Foster. Or why Stark chose to impart this particular task to someone he actively hated. 

And Steve? Well, Steve was hiding something, and one way or another, Bucky was going to get to the bottom of it.

“Sure, Buck. What is it?” 

Steve tucked away his keyboard tray, leaning forward in his seat. 

Bucky slid into the chair in front of his desk, sinking in a little deeper than he’d intended. He kept it brief, “I need access to the whole building.”

“You _have_ access to the whole building unless you’re talking about Stark’s personal labs?” Steve’s brow quirked, eyes narrowing slightly.

Bucky sighed, “No, security access to the whole building. Audio, visual, whatever it’s got. The works.”

Steve looked even more confused at that, “Why?”

So much for brevity. Now Bucky was going to get the third degree. Shifting slightly, it took a few seconds for him to put the words together in a way that wouldn’t make him sound as frustrated as he was.

“If I’m in charge of security for that lab, I need to make sure it isn’t vulnerable anywhere I can’t see,” Bucky said. “And quite frankly, there’s a lot I can’t see.”

About the case more than the building, but Steve didn’t need those kinds of details. The blond looked almost amused at the request, leaning back in his chair to mull it over.

“Buck, you _live_ here, and you’ve never cared this much about security before,” Steve said like that was supposed to mean something to him. “What changed?”

“You should know better than anyone that I can defend myself,” Bucky brushed off, also knowing that the residential floors were a hell of a lot more protected than the rest of the building. “But other people aren’t always so lucky. Plus, you gave me this job. You should be happy I’m trying to do it right, unlike whoever Stark hired.”

The Tower’s scientist population was the furthest thing from field agents in the building. Hell, he was pretty sure the janitors had more combat training than most of the PhDs running around. That in itself was a liability: people who couldn’t protect themselves or the vast amounts of knowledge and know-how they carried in their brains.

Even one of them would be worth their weight in gold on the black market, so it was a wonder Stark wasn’t doing more to protect his biggest assets.

“Permission denied. That’s not the mission, Barnes,” Tony’s voice floated through Steve’s office, courtesy of FRIDAY.

Bucky’s entire body tensed —hands quickly turning into fists at the sound. The rage was palpable as he realized Stark had been listening to their whole conversation. It wasn’t surprising as much as infuriating.

“Oh, really? This is a _mission_ now?” Bucky shot back, not quite sure where to look since he was talking to a disembodied voice. “Tony, you’re literally down the hall, apparently snooping on a conversation you weren’t invited to. You couldn’t at least grace us with your presence and _pretend_ you’re not a total ass?”

An indignant sound left the ceiling speakers, somewhere between a squawk and a sigh, “Not worth it for a request this stupid and this out of bounds.”

Bucky let out an angry huff bubbling inside his chest, “You want me to do this job properly? I’m going to need access. That lab isn’t in a silo, Stark. You and I both know that.”

He looked to Steve for confirmation, seeing that same worry crease marring his expression as he mulled it over. Bucky knew the answer before it’d left his mouth.

“I’m with Buck on this one, Tony,” Steve chimed in, his best Cap voice in full effect.

A long sigh followed.

“Fine. I’ll up your access, effective immediately, but you better protect those nerds. They’re the most expensive ones in the building— probably the city. You should _see_ their expense reports… they rival Cap’s grocery bill.”

Steve couldn’t help the small smile that sprang to his lips, “Goodbye, Tony.”

The pair were silent for a few moments, Steve looking a little too smug across the desk.

“Got what you wanted?” Steve asked with that stupid glint in his eyes.

Bucky smirked, “Never can be too careful, Stevie.”

“Sure, Buck.”

* * *

Bucky took day twelve to reorient himself with the whole security system. Starting with the lab floor, he made a mental note of the regulars, the cleaning staff, security, laundry, the occasional intern or significant other —or _date_ , not that he’d gossip. He took a cursory look at the lobby, a little from his residential floor, more out of curiosity than anything. He watched for anything out of the ordinary in the weeks following the attack, but it was hard to know what to look for with this many staff and residents in a building this big.

On day thirteen, he found the first piece of his puzzle.

The rest of the lab was out to lunch. Darcy never went out with them, preferring to eat something at her desk. He assumed it had less to do with saving money on take-out and more about her still being nervous about leaving the Tower. Bucky didn’t usually stop for breaks while the lab was in session, not when he was ensuring their safety of the glass box in the sky. 

With the rustle of a paper bag, there was suddenly a sandwich sitting in front of him in Darcy’s grip. “I notice you don’t go out much,” Darcy explained, pulling out a matching sandwich as evidence. “Figured you need to keep your strength up.”

There was a bit of teasing in her tone as she set it down in his palm.

“You didn’t have to—” Bucky started half-heartedly, as he was already unwrapping it, stomach rumbling in anticipation.

“I know. I wanted to. It’s just a sandwich,” Darcy brushed off with a smile. 

He was just about to take his first bite when he noticed those stormy eyes drifting into the hallway. Following her gaze, he found a tall blond brooding in the hallway, in a full SI security uniform. Based on how quickly the guard’s head snapped away from the lab, Bucky could have guessed who he was staring at. Who he wasn’t supposed to be staring at.

And for once, it wasn’t him.

So, Darcy Lewis had an admirer, huh? His eyes narrowed as he observed her reaction, body a little more rigid, expression bristled. Now his interest was piqued. Scorned lover, ex or creep? This went one of three ways, as far as he could see.

“You got a boyfriend or something?” Bucky asked lightly, nudging his chin towards the broody-looking dick outside the glass. He was just starting to back away from the lab, likely catching sight of Bucky.

Darcy hesitated, setting down her pen with a sigh, “No. We went out a couple of times, but…”

The corners of her lips were pulled down, eyes dropping to the floor as she massaged her forehead with her fingers.

“Sorry,” he offered, apologizing more for knowing the answer she hadn’t said out loud. “Shouldn’t have asked.” 

And as much as he felt like an asshole for even bringing it up, he tucked it away for future future reference. Who knew what details would become important as his investigation continued.

“No, it’s fine. It was nothing serious,” she brushed off a little too quickly. “Do you mind if we keep that to ourselves? I don’t want Jane to find out and try to give him an earful. He’s just doing his job.”

“Of course,” Bucky promised, but his ears perked at the sound of her keeping this from Foster.

But something else didn’t sit right with him. That security guard shouldn’t have been on the floor —they’d ordered all the supplementary staff to stay away from Dr. Foster’s lab during business hours since he’d be there instead. Even the cleaning staff were only allowed on the floor once the whole team had left, and Bucky reviewed the tapes before anyone got in to ensure no funny business.

He stared at the wall as he chewed on the sandwich —pastrami, with just enough of the good mustard— trying to think of what he’d missed. There must have been something.

And then the pieces started to fall together neatly in his brain. 

He’d seen that face before.

Bucky was swiping through security footage before he’d even finished eating. Balancing his phone on his knee, he accessed the feeds remotely and started searching. He scrolled through the tapes of the nearby hallways, scrubbing through to try to find him. He wasn’t there every day; maybe every few days, Bucky could see him wandering the halls.

Always peeking into the lab. Always looking for Darcy.

He checked the employee log, the hours and assignments, records, everything.

As soon as the coast was clear, no security guards in sight, Bucky stepped into the hallway where he could still get a full view of the room through the glass. His fingers flew across his phone as he typed in Steve’s number from memory.

“Buck?”

He’d barely heard Steve’s voice on the other end before he started running off the situation, “What do you know about the security guard, March?” 

“Despite what you might think, Buck, I don’t know every employee in the Tower.”

Bucky huffed, “He was staring me down when I was with Lewis, but he shouldn’t have been on that floor at all,” Bucky explained. “I shut down this floor when I started, Steve.”

“Maybe he was going for a stroll?” Steve asked, but Bucky could tell from his tone that he wasn’t convinced.

“He shouldn’t even be in the building right now,” Bucky groused, eyes locked on Darcy, oblivious to the whole scene as she flipped through her phone, hunched over her desk. “Plain as fucking day, Steve.”

Bucky could hear the click of a keyboard in the background, with Steve’s noncommittal, “Hm.”

“And it doesn’t look like he’s interested in any of the other employees. In fact, he’s _only_ around when Darcy’s around.”

“That _is_ weird,” Steve mulled over the line. “Have you asked Darcy if she’s talked to him since? Maybe they have something going on?”

He didn’t want to bring up the obvious and awkward break-up information over the phone if he didn’t have to. For all he knew, this guy was just a lookie-loo in the wrong place at the wrong time, innocently checking up on an ex. Or he was a total creep that couldn’t let her go.

With a face that punchable, he’d be lying if he didn’t hope it was the latter —it would be the easier of the two problems to solve.

“Yeah, I’m just going to stroll up to the dame and ask ‘hey, you noticed the creepy stalker dude creeping in the corner everywhere you go?’” Bucky huffed a laugh. “Did you ask Stark if he put him on this?”

The background noise got a lot louder on Steve’s end, a mish-mash of voices muffled, Steve’s voice among them.

“Listen, I’ve got to go into a meeting, but send me the info and I’ll look into the guard when I’m back. Let me know if you find anything else.”

So much for this being a priority assignment.

* * *

The rest of the day went without incident. March didn’t return to the lab level, and Darcy didn’t offer anything about the guy. Bucky wasn’t about to go poking around there; he knew better than most that sometimes it was alright keeping things to yourself. 

Healthy, even.

Most nights after work, Steve would invite him to dinner in his room; maybe he’d train a bit. He was confined to the Tower for the foreseeable future, so he tried to keep his options open to ensure he didn’t get restless. But it still happened, those nights when sleep didn’t come to him, and he couldn’t escape the city-lit ceiling of his bedroom, face-up on the bed, eyes wide open.

So, some nights he’d take a stroll, curl up on one of the comfier couches on the common floor. Sometimes he’d run into Tony or Steve, occasionally Sam, if he got in from an assignment early. 

But never a brunette, all wild waves and an oversized slept-in tee. 

Bucky had to fight the split-second instinct to grab the closest object as a weapon. He wasn’t aware of any civilians that lived in this chunk of the Tower. As far as he knew, it was completely locked down. But he approached anyway, fighting the rigidity that came with a fight or flight response and letting her see him from the corner of her eye.

“Jesus,” Darcy gasped, hand over heart at the sight of him. “You guys really have to tone down the spy schtick.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “Didn’t realize you had access to this floor.”

“Yeah, my place is just around the corner,” she offered, motioning towards the hallway.

He’d barely processed the fact she’d said she _lived_ there, one floor below him the whole time he’d been paid to watch her at work as the words tumbled out of his lips, “I didn’t realize you had a place in here.”

It came out a little too close to pity for his liking, but she didn’t seem to mind, nodding quietly in the dim light.

“Tony offered me a spot when he hired me. Something about needing to be on-call in case Janespiration struck.”

From up close, he could see the half-drunk cup of coffee, already wrung brown and probably lukewarm. She’d been there for a while. Black smudges just above her cheeks said she’d either slept in her make-up or cried it off; his bet on the latter. Darcy avoided looking at him, eyes locked to the mug.

“Can’t sleep?” She offered, finally meeting his eyes, bloodshot and bright blue.

“Something like that,” Bucky replied, slipping onto the sectional, a cushion between them. “What about you? Late-night?”

She huffed a humourless laugh and slipped her hand through the handle of the mug, “Oh, you know.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, wondering if he should just come out with it. It seemed like she could handle him at his bluntest.

“Some douchebag did a number on you, huh?”

She choked a laugh, and he wasn’t sure if it was because his guess was right on or laughably far off. 

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Sounded like a challenge to him. He leaned back against the couch, staring out into the Manhattan skyline through the floor-to-ceiling glass, “I’ve got nothing but time.”

She seemed to consider it, pulling her knees to her chest as she settled deeper into the pile of pillows on her side of the couch. It was this wall around her, a reflection of a childhood spent building pillow forts to hide from the real world —not that Bucky would know what that was like.

“Can I ask you for a favour?”

“Ask away.”

“Can you not judge me?” Darcy asked, voice just above a whisper and lower lip caught between her teeth. “Stark somehow sees something in me that sometimes I have a hard time seeing, and I’d hate to have my midnight word vomit lead to him looking at me differently. Being the new kid at the office is hard enough, and I’m just glad he decided to make me his little pet project at all.”

“Of course,” Bucky nodded, trying to ignore how clearly raw she still was. “No judgement here.”

The last time he’d seen someone this grateful to Stark, it’d been a sixteen-year-old kid from Queens who Tony basically adopted, so seeing this fully grown woman all but say she owed him her life, it was hard to watch up close. In this light, on her face, in her eyes.

“I know you’ve been making sure there’s not security threats in the lab. So I might as well be honest with you if you didn’t already know. Brett and I went on a few more than a few dates,” she started quietly, not meeting his eyes, “I know it was against company policy, and it was stupid. He was just the first guy to show me any attention and not teach me like I was a total airhead, you know?”

He wanted to tell her she deserved a lot more than that. After spending two weeks in close quarters, he’d come to tolerate her, maybe even like her. The occasional grin slipped, perhaps even a chuckle, as she puttered around the lab and tried to keep Doctor Foster alive like her personal pet goldfish. A genius goldfish, no doubt, but the self-preservation of most tiny, aquatic life.

“He didn’t even break up with me. Not formally,” Darcy added with a sniff. “Didn’t even get a freaking text message or anything. Just ghosted me and lingers a little too long in the hallways.”

“Well, you definitely win for worst break-up,” Bucky murmured, but she couldn’t bring herself to crack a smile. The guilt was front and center in her expression, and he couldn’t stand it. “The way you tell it, he’s just as much at fault as you are, which makes him an ass. Not even worth your time.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“No,” he gruffed. “I don’t do that. I don’t sugarcoat things— life’s too short for that shit. It’s the truth.”

The way he saw it, there was no point. Maybe it came with his age, or it was a sign of different times. Perhaps he’d earned the right to be cynical and brash. But if Bucky appreciated anything in life, it was honesty.

“Well, regardless, I obviously felt like shit after it happened. Tony gave us enough for me to get a cheap last-minute flight, so I tried the whole _Eat, Pray, Love_ thing for a bit,” she mused. “I went to Paris for a week. I thought it would give me perspective, or whatever bullshit people are hawking, but honestly, nothing really changed.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, sipping his beer.

“That was until an Iron Bot showed up outside my hotel window. Apparently, running off to Europe by yourself after trauma can be a sign of suicidal ideation, or at least, that’s why Tony said when he checked in on me two days into the trip. Well, not in so many words, but…”

Bucky sat in stunned silence, not really sure what to say to that. His throat felt a little tight at her tone. 

Tony clearly felt guilty. Sure, it was his building, on his time, but he hadn’t heard about a rescue op for Foster, and she’d spent her two weeks off- _world_. He was torn between wondering why Tony Stark was so interested in the girl on the couch next to him and wanting to know exactly what was going through her head.

The first was tactical, the second… less so, and he couldn’t quite explain the _why_.

“I just…” she sighed, leaning her forehead into her palms, elbows against knees. “How do you trust people after that?”

Realizing she meant more than just the break-up or Tony's intervention or maybe even the attack, Bucky didn’t know if he was the right person to answer that. Especially considering his own history. His only answer would have been ‘You don’t,’ so he settled on changing the subject.

“You been sleeping since you got back?”

He knew the answer before he asked the question. Not just form the eyebags or the telltale circles. Bucky could see the way her hands jittered, how she bounced her knees out of necessity and nerves, how she was trying desperately to stay awake for whatever reason.

Hiding from whatever was keeping her up at night.

“I look that bad?” she asked with a wry smile, waiting for the joke to land before her eyes turned down to the ground. “No, I’m not sleeping.”

“Nightmares?” he didn’t wait for her to respond; he could already feel how uncomfortable the question made her. “I uh, dealt with my own. Still get ‘em some nights. So, if you ever want to talk…”

Her stormy blues darted between his like she was judging whether he was serious. Whether she could take him at his word. The corner of her lip flicked up after a beat of silence.

“Thanks,” she said quietly. “I’m fine. Really. Um, sorry for dumping all of that on you. I really should upgrade to a better brain to mouth filter.”

And there was that smile again, pushing back the droop in her expression and the shine in her eyes.

“Nah, I’m all for honesty,” Bucky said with his own grin. “I’ll take it where I can get it.”

Darcy nodded, “And I should probably try to sleep, and stop bothering the resident superheroes.”

“I ain’t a superhero, doll.”

“I thought you appreciated honesty, Barnes?” She shot him a sad smile and dusted off her legs before padding down the hall towards the residences, leaving Bucky to his thoughts.

And after that chat, he had a lot to think about.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! I know this was supposed to be 3 chapters, but then plot happened? I severely underestimated how long it would take to build, and putting it all in one chapter felt a little clunky. But that was on me. 
> 
> I still wanted to finish this series this week, so here: have two chapters in one update!

Bucky didn’t leave the couch when Darcy did. In fact, he never returned to his room that night. Darcy’s words were swirling around in his head, circling the drain, and it was like he was trying to recreate the Mona Lisa from memory —he was missing something here.

It was nearly 3 AM by the time he pulled up the footage from the attack on his phone, scrubbing through like he hadn’t already watched it a dozen times before. He knew the play-by-play. The two attackers entered the lab from a nearby stairwell —probably straight from the parking garage, based on the lack of evidence otherwise— and immediately swarmed the staff, guns drawn.

“ _Hands up, drop whatever the hell you’re doing or you’re getting one between the eyes._ ”

Someone —Darcy actually— managed to hit the silent alarm in the lab, which notified SI security, but one of the attackers noticed and took her by the hair in retaliation. Wait, rewind that—

“ _On the floor, hands above your heads._ ”

There was no way he could have seen her reach for that alarm from that angle, so why would he immediately go after Darcy? Everyone in the lab was standing; most were even closer to the exit than she was.

“ _Now!_ ”

His jaw locked as they slammed Darcy against the clear lab wall, and even from this angle, he could see her unfocused eyes as they whispered something in her ear, hand tightening around the back of her neck. JARVIS didn’t pick it up, and none of the camera angles could quite make out his mouth to attempt a lip read. 

None of the reports mentioned what they said. 

“ _I mean it. Don’t you fucking move a muscle. Get Tony Stark on the line._ ”

It took SI security ten minutes from the intruders’ entrance to get into the room. Ten minutes of some asshole with his hand around Darcy’s neck, gun to her head. Ten minutes of his accomplice shoving the barrel of his Glock in the faces of the poor scientists.

Ten minutes too goddamn long for his liking.

The whole op ended up being fruitless. No chatting with Stark. No rummaging through tech. No blood. The assholes took the Hydra way out, foaming at the mouth as they slumped to the floor once they realized they were surrounded. There was crying in the background and rushing out of the room, but Darcy just stared at the body of her attacker on the ground, frozen and gripping her neck.

Bucky didn’t need an outside opinion to tell him that the whole scene was more personal than the bastards wanted to make it out to be.

There were too many things missing: no shuffling of papers or hard-drives stolen, no scientists kidnapped or killed. And worst of all, that meant there was no clear motive, and as much as Bucky was used to senseless acts of violence, it just didn’t seem to add up.

There was something there. Something to suggest they wanted to know how the Tower would react to intruders, that they wanted to put the fear of God into them. 

That Darcy might be the one needing protection.

It wasn’t until the sun started to seep in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that Bucky realized it was Saturday. Saturday meant the lab was closed. Meant he wasn’t on security duty. At least, not in the official sense.

Bucky wanted to brush it off, tell himself it was just a favour, just another gig, and he should just go back to his routine existence, but he couldn’t ignore what he saw that night. Not only was she somehow at the center of this whole thing, but Darcy was struggling, and he didn’t know if anyone could see it like he did. 

Did anyone else even care? There was a Tower full of people here, countless coworkers, even a friend or two, and Darcy didn’t seem to be able to confide in any of them based on last night’s breakdown. Stark clearly had no problem letting her work in this condition. Her scientist friend was well-meaning but was probably fooled by the confident mask she slipped on in the lab. 

So, barring a miraculous intervention from a third-party, that left Bucky the next in line to say something. Or _do_ something.

He needed to step in.

Darcy padded down the hall just before the clock ticked 6 AM, the first one out of bed (Steve was clearly offsite), already crooking her brow at Bucky still being on the couch. Her hair was twisted into a tight knot, edges a little frizzy, and, based on the way she dragged herself over to lean on the kitchen counter, she was still exhausted. Probably had only gotten a couple hours at most.

Still, she was happy to shift the focus, “You didn’t get _any_ sleep, did you?”

Bucky shrugged, “Don’t need much these days.”

Which was the truth, even if it wasn’t the whole one. He’d gone a hell of a lot longer without sleep than a measly 24 hours, but based on her tone, Darcy probably didn’t need to know that.

“You hungry?” he asked before he bit back against her own sleeping habits. “I was itching for diner food if you want to come?”

Darcy stared at him blankly, stopped dead in her tracks as she scrutinized him.

“You want to go out,” Darcy started, “like outside the Tower, to go for breakfast, with _me_?”

Her delivery made it sound like four separate questions asking the same thing in that disbelieving tone.

“I mean, yeah. If you don’t have anything better to do?”

Armed with two baseball caps and some warmer clothing, the two were outside the Tower within ten minutes. 

Saturday morning might not have been the best time to go out for breakfast, Bucky realized very quickly as they strolled towards the usual suspects. Lines slunk out of the nearby diners and wove around like snakes, waiting for tables. He huffed, guiding them towards one a little further out.

“Do you know where _every_ diner is in midtown or just the good ones?” Darcy huffed, shoving her hands into her pockets to beat the chill.

Bucky chuckled, “Just the 24-hour joints. This might come as a surprise to you, but I tend to work odd hours.”

“I think you mean ‘not sleep,’” Darcy shot back.

He didn’t feel the need to correct her. She wasn’t wrong.

Darcy clung to his side as they found it, only a few people crowded in the entryway, so Bucky gave his name to the hostess and stood. It was a mix of tourists and the hangover crew (which weren’t mutually exclusive), sunglasses, and slouchy knit hats abound. As the clock ticked closer to 7 AM, the crowd inside the diner started to pile up. 

Bucky and Darcy shifted closer to the front window as they waited for a table.

Bucky noticed it as soon as they moved: Darcy’s hand —well, fist _now_ — white-knuckled and shaking. Her eyes were glued on the floor, unfocused as her breathing hitched. He tried to clear a little room for her, wondering how quickly he could weave their way out of the exit when she slid herself down towards the floor, landing on the front window ledge.

“Darcy? Hey,” Bucky soothed as he crouched down to her level, putting himself between her and all the people. One hand on her knee, he continued in the softest voice he could muster, “You’re OK, you’re safe. I’m right here. I need you to breathe with me, OK?”

As he exaggerated his breath, trying to get her to mimic him, he realized this was some supreme irony; if Steve ever got wind of this one, he’d never live it down. But all he could focus on was the girl in front of him, taking shaky breaths, blue eyes wide and scared as they locked onto his. 

“That’s good, you’ve got it,” Bucky encouraged just above a whisper.

Even he, who’d been dealing with stares ever since he got back from Wakanda and had come to ignore them, could feel the whole place eyeing them a little nervously. Bucky was about a minute away from hauling them both out of there and ordering take-out.

That option was still on the table, frankly. He just didn’t get a chance to ask Darcy.

“James?” A voice rang out from the podium.

Bucky’s eyes snapped to Darcy’s eyebrow raised, “You feel OK to go sit down?”

“Yeah,” she said without hesitation.

It wasn’t until they made to stand that Bucky realized she’d been holding his hand in her own, vice-grip letting up slightly as Darcy realized how it looked.

“Sorry,” she muttered, blush painted across her cheeks and up to her ears.

Bucky couldn’t help the flick of his lips as he assured, “Hey, s’no big deal.”

His hand found the small of her back as they wove towards the restaurant—but it was only polite.

Setting two menus and two glasses of water down on the table, the waitress was out of sight, off to grab a coffee pot for their first round. Bucky nudged a glass and a straw in Darcy’s direction, silently urging her to drink up.

She took the hint without fuss, gulping down half the glass in one go.

The restaurant itself was a time capsule. The white and teal booths screamed a time neither of them every really lived through, somewhere in what Bucky was told was the ‘ _golden age_ ’ of the US of A. The springs dug into his thighs, and the seat squeaked, but he had to admit, there was just something about the smell of diner food that was inherently comforting. 

He kind of hoped Darcy felt the same.

“I’m sorry about that,” Darcy started after a few quiet moments, fiddling with her napkin. She still looked a little cagey. “I uh, haven’t been out of the tower since I got back…”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “Listen, it’s fine—“

“I just, I wanted to be able to do it, you know? Like, just go out for a coffee or for lunch like a normal person.”

And he could see it in her eyes, that raw _need_ to be OK, to be able to live a normal life and function like any other average human being. He knew that look.

“I getcha,” Bucky murmured. “Might not have been around for it, but I uh, had a similar situation myself.”

“Still do, the way I hear it,” Darcy said before she could stop herself.

“From who?” Bucky asked, playing up a scandalized tone for effect.

Darcy shrugged, smile glittering across her face, eyes still a little red, “I’m no snitch.”

Bucky huffed a laugh as the waitress rounded the corner with a carafe, a pad and pen. She briskly took their orders, offering a dim smile that spoke to a busy morning rush —if the crowds didn’t make that obvious enough. Darcy’s smile slid off her face as soon as she was out of earshot, hiding behind her mugful of coffee as she willed herself back together.

He knew that look too, a little too well. Seen it in the mirror a few too many times to sit here and watch it some more. And something in the back of his mind went through the checklist his therapist drilled into him on his off days.

“You manage to get any rest?”

“A little,” Darcy said, though her eyes didn’t meet his. “It’s hard for the Tower to feel like home after…”

Bucky could understand that. Seemed there was a lot more guilt under her guise than she’d let on, a lot of fear she shoved down every day to be the dutiful science wrangler Stark Industries needed her to be. This woman damn near had a panic attack not ten full minutes ago and was sitting across from him like it was any other day.

Not out of strength. No, strength was stupid and prideful, and reckless, and Darcy Lewis was none of those things. 

He could see plain as day that it was out of a sense of duty, of having to be the strong one, the responsible one. Using humour as a way to mask her fears and insecurities. He’d bet she was an older sibling.

He knew too much about that too.

Edging in uncomfortable territory, he licked his lips and dove in.

“You want to talk about it?”

Those big blue eyes flicked up to him like a lifeline, trying to gauge whether he’d pull it out of reach. Bucky let Darcy search him for any sign of backing out before deciding to come out with it.

“I just… I feel guilty. I have this cushy job and a billionaire who’s taken an interest in me for some reason. And then the first thing I do is break every HR rule on fraternization because some mildly attractive guy paid me any attention,” Darcy’s head was in her hands, wiping her cheeks as she avoiding eye contact.

The girl was a rambler. Bucky had seen enough in his day to know, but there was something about this train of thought he didn’t want to interrupt and distract from. Much like a car crash, he was halfway to running in and saving the occupants while the other half just wanted to see what would happen if he didn’t.

Darcy didn’t give him a lot of time to intervene, “And then the lab thing happened, and I don’t even think I’ve processed _that_ yet —and I had nowhere to go after, so I left. You know how that went. And you’re the only person I’ve talked to since the police report about this, and I don’t know why I trust you, but I do? And…” she looked at him a little guiltily, realizing he hadn’t said a peep in a while. “I should probably stop talking now.”

“Don’t stop on my account,” Bucky said with a lilt.

Darcy shook her head, “I’m not going to word-vomit my problems all over the guy buying me breakfast.”

“Oh, I’m paying?” He shot back, which managed to get a smile out of her.

Bucky tried to pass off that pang in his stomach as hunger at her watery chuckle.

“You know, you’re not so bad, Barnes,” Darcy mumbled, staring up at him through her eyelashes.

Bucky would have come up with some witty retort if the waitress hadn’t brought over their plates, nearly dropping the maple syrup in the process. Bucky and Darcy reached over to save it simultaneously, and while Bucky managed to catch it, he almost didn’t. That jolt where their skin touched would have sent him into the next booth if he wasn’t careful. 

And staring up at the look on her face, he saw a flicker of the same feeling.

The waitress didn’t notice, wiping her hands on her apron as she put on her best smile, “Anything else I can get you?”

Thankfully Darcy didn’t miss a beat, shooting Bucky an apology and politely thanking the waitress in the same breath.

But Bucky couldn’t help noticing that flush across her cheeks and how it brought out her eyes.

They didn’t belabour breakfast, making it back before 8 AM. Darcy thanked him about a million times and tried her hardest to swipe the check from under his fist, but he paid, and they walked back together to the Tower, close enough for a stranger to know they were acquainted. 

But no closer than that.

Darcy was always in arm’s reach but never quite touching — almost like she knew, which probably unnerved him more than it should. Bucky didn’t have a lot of time for the impending internal debate, being pulled aside by an infuriatingly familiar voice in the lobby almost as soon as they’d stepped foot in it.

“Barnes, just the man I wish I wasn’t looking for,” Tony Stark announced, stepping between Bucky and a determined Darcy already heading to the elevator bay. Probably for the best, considering how he continued, “I don’t remember giving you an extra credit assignment.”

Bucky had to hold back an eye roll, “I’m not allowed to buy a girl breakfast?”

The tick in Tony’s jaw was a little more pronounced than usual, but before he could come out with whatever stupid pop culture reference he was brewing, Steve sidled up to both of them, ever the peacemaker.

“Buck, d’you have a minute? We just wanted to go over some things with you.”

Figuring this had something to do with Darcy, he squared his shoulders. “ _We_ , huh? This should be good,” Bucky muttered as they detoured to Tony’s office.

* * *

“We took a look at March’s background, and you were right to flag it. There were a few things that didn’t quite add up.”

Neither Stark nor Steve looked pleased with the outcome, though, seated in plush armchairs as Bucky stood, arms crossed his chest. He wasn’t here for an extended chat and was frankly hoping these two would cut to the chase already.

“And?”

He was sick of them beating around the bush with this.

“ _And_ , as if this morning, March has been terminated without cause. We conveniently phased him out due to overstaffing,” Tony said smoothly. 

“And what? You think that means the case is closed?” Bucky asked with a scoff.

Tony’s forehead creased, “You don’t?”

Where did he even start with this? It was like Bucky was talking with children. His eyes quickly swung over to Steve, hardening into a glare as he finally gave him a piece of his mind.

“Don’t you think I should have known if any of them would be targets for potential payback? Wouldn’t that have been a helpful tidbit of information considering you tasked me with this?” Bucky asked. “Does anyone else know?”

“Know about what?” Tony asked, clearly not following the conversation Bucky and Steve we’re having between the lines.

Bucky ignored him, gaze locked on Steve as he added, “When were you going to tell me about Darcy?”

He might have kept it a little open-ended, hoping one of them would finally drop the final piece of the puzzle in his lap, but Bucky wasn’t that fortunate.

“The dating thing? It’s a little personal, don’t you think?” Steve asked.

“Dating?” Tony looked a little affronted, still sidelined in the conversation. “They _dated_?”

“It was harmless,” Steve said, trying to smooth things over. “But honestly, we didn’t know until after the fact.”

“I don’t think an inside job is _harmless_ ,” Bucky said, a little more venom in his voice. 

Tony’s head was whipping between the two of them, “Inside job? That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

“You really think it goes that deep?”

Bucky started to explain what he saw in the footage, what he’s realized in those early morning hours, why he thought Darcy might have been the one targeted. Each word made Tony look a little more green around the gills, and he was oddly quiet in his chair, jaw locked firmly in place.

He watched as Tony flipped through the cameras on his phone, realizing he was looking for her, fingers sped up in a panic, “JARVIS, where’s Darcy?”

“ _I can confirm that Miss Lewis is in the building, sir._ ”

“JARVIS, can you activate protocol 404 for a trace? I need you to flag if she goes into any of the areas I flagged for lack of coverage.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at Tony’s command, “You have a _tracker_ on her? Isn’t that crossing a line?”

“There are places in this building that don’t have cameras?” Bucky’s concerns were a little more tactical.

“Yes, and now we have to hope they don’t know that,” Tony said quietly. “It’s mostly maintenance areas, bathrooms, obviously, but it’s impossible to wire an entire building, guys. Trust me, I tried.”

Steve and Bucky looked at each other and then Tony as he paced the office.

“We just fired the asshole who might have orchestrated this whole thing. We just sent them the message that we know— even if we don’t, I mean, not _really_. What if they retaliate?” Tony reasoned aloud.

“ _It appears Miss Lewis is currently crossing the lobby. Based on her previously logged activities at this time of day, she is likely heading towards the library._ ”

A projection of the security footage appeared in mid-air, showing her in her maroon sweater and smile. She was alone, smiling at the front desk staff as she headed further into the building. Bucky was just about to check who was in the library before he spotted him.

“Who’s that?” Bucky asked, pointing to one very determined employee weaving through the same crowds Darcy was, just a few feet away.

Steve’s expression turned grim, “He’s on the maintenance staff—”

“JARVIS, name, identification, and confirm whether he’s supposed to be on that floor.”

“ _Alan Young is not scheduled for work today, sir, and as such, is relegated to the common areas of the building per security protocols._ ”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Bucky groused. “That’s five whole floors.”

Tony looked at them, looking a hell of a lot more helpless than a billionaire should, “What do we do?”

Steve turned to Bucky, “Buck?”

The mission objectives cycled through his mind in a blink. Too many civilians to do this out in the open. Too much of a risk of this turning violent or taking additional hostages. They also didn’t know how many accomplices were in tow. They had nothing to lose now —their position was given away the moment their primary leak was outed— so now they either had to give up or get down to business.

And Bucky was betting they were doing the latter.

“You trust me?” Buck asked, more to Steve than Stark, obviously.

His hesitant nod was all he needed to take this into his own hands.

“Then, Stark, once I start this, you’ve got a hell of a lot of explaining to do. Hey JARVIS?”

He always felt awkward addressing this AI, but at least it would be helpful in this capacity.

“ _Yes, Sergeant Barnes?_ ”

“Please page Ms. Lewis to got to room 217.”

It only took a second for the building’s generic AI voice to announce the page overhead.

“You just broadcast her next move, you idiot,” Tony hissed mid-pace, arm swinging up at the projected footage. “First, you take her on a brunch date, outside the Tower where she isn’t protected, and now you tell every person who might be going after her where she’s off to?”

Steve’s eyebrows rose at the sound of ‘brunch date,’ but Bucky’s terse reply was already locked and loaded.

Sending her to a private office, so she was out of sight and off the feeds, would buy them a few minutes, _and_ might out whoever was tailing her. That room was out of the way, wing deserted from what he could tell on the security feeds.

“No, you sent them a message this morning when you fired her ex-boyfriend. At least I have a plan here,” Bucky shot back. ”I’m going to ask you again, Tony: what’s really going on here? Who’s the girl?”

Stark didn’t look convinced, “How are you sure they’re targeting—”

Bucky simply motioned to the footage, and they watched as two more men took the same detour Darcy did, up the east stairwell just yards behind her.

“Fuck,” Tony swore, sitting in the chair again. His knee bounced as he stared off into space.

“We don’t have a lot of time here, Stark.”

The billionaire suddenly looked like a deer in headlights, desperately needing a drink in his hands to calm the fidgeting typical of an uncomfortable conversation— or worse yet, emotions.

He cleared his throat and looked Bucky dead in the eyes.

“She’s my daughter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry — I wouldn’t actually leave you on this cliffhanger. Be sure to click through to the next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

“She’s my daughter.”

Well, _that_ explained why Steve didn’t tell him about the details of this particular shitshow. But Bucky didn’t have time to drag out this revelation, already stripping out of his jacket and tugging at his holsters as Tony talked. He had to take inventory before he could handle this himself.

“Who knew?”

“Tony, Pepper, me,” Steve answered this time, shooting Bucky’s eyebrows into his hairline. “Natasha had a hunch, but she dropped it when I asked her to.”

Bucky’s fingers brushed over two guns, loaded and locked in place.

“Darcy doesn’t know, does she?”

After all, Darcy Lewis was a lot of things, but a good liar wasn’t one of them.

Tony shook his head, “I… I hadn’t had a chance to break it to her. Can’t exactly go up to her and tell her I’m her old man right out of the blue.”

He patted down the dozen or so knives strewn throughout his uniform, making sure they were in place, ignoring the fact that Darcy had been working at Stark Tower for two years already. That was not his battle.

“So she’s…?”

“She was adopted, yeah. Had a good childhood in Maine, with loving parents, a younger brother. The works.” Tony sounded a little sad, looking dead around the eyes as he realized the implications. “I only found out when JARVIS analyzed those leaked SHIELD documents after DC. He connected the dots; I just did the hiring when it came time.”

Bucky was half listening, flipping through camera angles on his phone as Tony explained, formulating the last few details of his plan. He kind of understood. Stark wanted her close to keep an eye on her like any father would. And, like any parent, he clearly sensed something amiss, which is why he brought Steve into the fold. He could trust Steve, and by extension, if he squinted hard enough, maybe Bucky. 

Even if he was too much of a pompous ass to admit it out loud.

Or tell him the truth, to begin with.

Tony was still at a loss, knee stilled and knuckles white as he continued, “If someone knows… If someone’s targeting her…”

None of them needed him to finish that sentence out loud.

“I’ve got this. No one’s going to get to her,” Bucky assured, reaching into Steve’s bookcase and pulling out a weapon he wasn’t even sure Steve knew was there, based on his expression.

The intruders were closing in on room 217, two stragglers taking hallway corners as looks-outs while the final guy started to close the gap between himself and Darcy. He was only a few yards out.

Fuck, he thought he had more time than this.

“Seriously, though, why that room?”

Last step: the tiny earpiece that would allow him to communicate with Steve and Tony —they could be his eyes.

“I thought you knew your own building, Stark,” Bucky shot him a grin as he popped a comm in his ear. “All that separates the atrium, and the inside of that room is a couple layers of drywall.”

Tony scoffed, mouth hanging open, “You’re going to go full mission impossible, in my Tower, with my daughter?”

“That’s the mission, isn’t it?” Bucky said with a smirk.

Tony seemed to consider it, eyes flashing to Steve as he pursed his lips. “Well, I can’t have you going in blind. 404 mic on, JARVIS. Route the audio to Barnes’s comms.”

Bucky shook his head and chuckled, incredulous. Looks like he’d have _ears_ going in too, “Why am I not surprised you have her miked? Jesus Christ, Stark.”

But there wasn’t a lot of heart behind it; Bucky’s eyes were still glued to the security footage, gathering four different angles of the scene from various cameras. He watched as asshole number one, standing furthest from the office, flicked up the fire alarm. 

By the time the alarm sounded, James had already formulated the best method of attack and was reracking his gun.

At least the building would be emptied.

Tony was shouting after him as he was halfway to the door, “Hey! I hope you have more of a plan than just going in there, guns blazing. That’s my daughter in there.”

Bucky turned on his heel, rolling his eyes as he said his final words.

“First, you should probably fucking trust me by now. Second, this is an ICER,” Bucky said, holding up the gun. “Non-lethal. Because _I’m_ not an idiot, and this asshole’s going to sing before I’m through with him.”

And with that, he was out the door, stalking down the hall at an alarming rate. 

“ _Darcy Lewis. I’ve heard so much about you,_ ” crooned in his ear, audio pouring straight in from the source. 

“ _What do you want from me?_ ” Darcy asked, voice shaking.

“ _Oh, nothing much. We’re just going to have a conversation with someone a little higher up. See if he doesn’t have something to say about our little get-together here. You see, I have a feeling you’re worth a lot to him, at least enough to make sure both of us leave this building alive._ ”

Bucky’s jaw locked in place at the sound of a safety a little too close to the microphone. That lit a fire under Bucky’s ass. He had to make this quick. He didn’t bother with the stairs, hopping over the railing and onto the second-floor landing. Stealth was the least of his concerns for a few reasons. 

Mainly, whoever planned this out had no idea what they were doing.

First mistake, no back-up —or well, there _was_ back-up, but they were out of sight of one another. So how would any of them know if they were down a man? 

“ _I think you’ve got the wrong idea, dude. I’m a science lackey through and through. You have the wrong girl._ ”

“ _I think you underestimate how valuable you might be to the right buyer, my dear. Or trader, in this case. We’re just going to make a little phone call and get this all sorted out._ ”

It was convenient when he thought about it, their lack of planning. Not that it took much thought to shoot an ICER round directly into asshole number one’s neck. He didn’t even see Bucky coming.

Another quick check of the security footage made sure the other two weren’t spooked, but they hadn’t moved. Typical. Bucky could hear the door slam shut in his comms, the lock click into place, and the sound of a rolling chair careening across the room. 

Not great signs, but better than sounds of pain or threats of violence.

Back to the mission at hand. Bucky stalked around the corner, finding asshole number two watching the other end of the hall. One-shot and he dropped, as Bucky ran to drag his body out of view of the glorified fishbowl of room 217.

Which brought him to their second mistake: no back-up eyes. 

This wasn’t a sophisticated operation; he knew that the guys they’d sent on this mission were just glorified cannon fodder so they could brute force their way into the building. There was no security hack or remote camera access. The final idiot was completely blind inside of that office and too busy yapping his whole bad guy spiel to know the rest of his team were taking a well-deserved nap.

His loss, Bucky supposed. Now all he had to do was make it to the third-floor balcony so he could make a calculated swan dive and take the dickhead out before he could do anything else stupid. His comms were still playing in his ear, feeling his sprint up the stairs and around the corner.

“ _Don’t get any ideas there. One wrong move, and I’d be happy to sell you off for parts. A pint of blood, alive or dead, could go a long way with the right DNA._ ”

He was bluffing. The asshole needed Darcy alive. Probably wouldn’t even know where to start with selling Stark DNA. Bucky would know that tone anywhere. It reeked of desperation.

“ _O-OK. Don’t do anything hasty, I-I’m right here._ ” 

But Darcy clearly didn’t, stuttering and sounding a lot less confident with a gun in play. Bucky grit his teeth at the security footage, watching as Darcy cowered in the corner, head against her knees. He could hear the heaving sobs through his comms, urging him on.

Shit. Speaking of stupid. 

No, he’d get there before that asshole could touch a hair on Darcy Lewis’s head.

The third and final mistake of the day’s operation, or attempted operation at this point, was more of a pointer—extra points for style. Because _sometimes_ —Bucky would argue most times— it was better to cut the bloat and do the goddamn job yourself. Good help was hard to find.

Especially if you want it done right.

“ _Mr. Stark, how nice to hear from you. I think we have a trade to make here, on behalf of my employer. _”__

“ _Oh, I think you’ll find we’re well passed first names here, friend. You’ve got those blueprints that would put the Manhattan Project to shame and **I’ve** got your da—_” 

__And while Bucky couldn’t care less about keeping Stark’s stupid, misguided secret, the asshole didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. With a well-place leap off the balcony, the crunch of the drywall offered Bucky a split second to aim and fire the last ICER round straight into the bastard’s chest before his feet hit the ground._ _

__“Bucky?” Darcy yelped, already on her feet, staring nervously at the body on the floor as she held her corner position._ _

__Popping the comm out of his ear and into his pocket, he kicked the gun out of reach of the body. Mission accomplished. Darcy, on the other hand, was still a little wobbly. Bucky shifted into her side, steadying her as she found her footing. But her eyes were locked to the ground, chin bobbing as the tremors started to settle into her hands._ _

__“Hey, hey—” Bucky started, pulling her into his side, wrapping his arm around her. “You’re fine. You’re safe.”_ _

__“They were here for _me_. Why?”_ _

__His stomach twisted at her words, that unfocused look in her eyes, past the shining tears. And as much as he wanted to offer some words of comfort, he knew better than most that some things just couldn’t be fixed with words._ _

__Especially ones he couldn’t be the one to tell her._ _

__“Darcy… This isn’t your fault,” Bucky assured, though he knew it’d be fruitless._ _

__Her head snapped to him, doubt in her face, eyes a little more creased, bags a little darker, “How can you say that?”_ _

__Bucky continued, trying to put on a convincing face, “There are about a dozen other issues with the security in the lab. Stuff you never could have controlled or would have known to look for. This isn’t on you.”_ _

__Darcy’s fingers clawed into his shirt, hanging on for dear life as his arm slipped around her waist to hold her up. She burrowed her face into his shoulder, and he could feel the wracking sobs._ _

__“How about we get you out of here, yeah?” He asked, even softer, feeling her nod against him._ _

__Wrapping his arms around her, Bucky could feel Darcy go limp in his arms, knees giving up on her as her fight or flight melted away into exhaustion. Without another word, Bucky swept his arm under her knees, pulling her tightly against his chest and wove his way out towards the empty lobby._ _

__Security was holding the crowds outside while the police and Tony made their way across the barren atrium. Tony’s eyes widened at Bucky’s payload, narrowing as things clicked in his oversized skull. Bucky wouldn’t have been surprised to know he’d been listening to their little conversation. He knew he was in for an awkward debrief with his daughter based on the tight expression and worried eyes._ _

__Not that she knew that yet._ _

__But Bucky was more concerned by the sniffling into his shoulder, “You alright there?”_ _

__She shifted out of his grip, hopping down to the ground, holding onto his shoulder to balance herself. It felt like there was something she wanted to say, something she was struggling with, as she wiped the way trails off her face and shot him a quiet thanks._ _

__“Thank you for saving me. I-I’m fine.”_ _

__Fine wasn’t exactly how he would have described her. Possibly in shock, going to have a killer headache tomorrow, and still somehow beautiful? Those were a little closer to the truth._ _

__Not that he’d ever call her out on it._ _

__“I know you just carried me out of there, and honestly, I’ll probably never get over having my very own real life knight in shining armour moment, even if it was because of some hostage situation, but…” she bit her lip, realizing she was rambling again. “Can I give you a hug?”_ _

__Maybe it was the quiver in her lower lip that broke his resolve, or maybe it was Tony looking on and staring daggers at the two, but either way, Bucky let her slip her arms around his neck again, holding her close and shooting Stark a slightly smug expression._ _

__“Do I have to go write a police report and everything?” Darcy asked, eyes still swimming in tears as she pulled back._ _

__“Eventually, yeah,” Bucky said, looking over at the officer already talking to Tony. “But I think Tony’s got something to tell you first.”_ _

__And Bucky had an interrogation to get started on._ _

* * *

__Tony and the team had uncovered a massive operation from some Hydra splinter cell in New York. And while it was far from over, they were making headway._ _

__It had taken a month for Tony to quit it with his silent treatment —but at least Bucky had been able to go on missions in the meantime. If anything, Tony actively encouraged it. Mostly because he still wasn’t pleased that Darcy and Bucky hit it off after the rescue and was sick of making puking noises every time he caught them canoodling in the halls._ _

__The killjoy._ _

__But Bucky was happy, really happy. And Darcy was… well, dealing with the fact that her biological father was a billionaire who owned the company she worked for and probably had a hand in arranging a lot more of her life than she ever would have realized. And, frankly, that was a lot to process without the whole new relationship aspect of things._ _

__So they took it day by day._ _

__Those quiet moments with the two of them, when they wouldn’t say a word just wrapped in each other, became the perfect getaway from their own respective realities. And hugs turned into kisses, into closed doors and lights out beneath the sheets, and he couldn’t remember being happier._ _

__Sure, the bar was low there, but it was something._ _

__Begrudgingly —though mostly on Tony’s part— Pepper had taken to planning family dinners, carb coma-inducing events with enough food to feed triple the Tower’s super-soldier population._ _

__Bucky and Darcy were stretched across the couch on their private floor, a jigsaw puzzle of cozy socks and knit sweaters. Somehow Darcy was easily taking up all three cushions on said couch by herself, _graciously_ sharing half a pillow with her super soldier boyfriend. She’d tilt her head and sneak him upside-down kisses, so Bucky was inclined to stay._ _

__Wearing his best smirk, he murmured, “You’re laying it on especially thick today.”_ _

__Darcy couldn’t hide the smile she sprung in return, tugging on his arm to wrap around her waist and burrowing further her upper body into his chest._ _

__“Hey, I’ve got 26 years worth of being a total pain in the ass to catch up on,” Darcy drawled. “Plus, you’re adorable when you’re pissing Tony off, so as far as I’m concerned, it’s two birds, one stone.”_ _

__And honestly, Bucky just couldn’t argue with that logic._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this fic ended up as more of a beast than I intended. Do I regret it? Not in the slightest. Self-indulgence forever. This ship has been a nice angsty escape for me lately, so thank you, Wintershock community, for all the love. More to come!
> 
> In the meantime, if you’d like to know what’s in progress, I do a [Fanfic Friday round-up](https://pasmonblog.tumblr.com/tagged/fanfic-friday) on my Tumblr every week that lists all of my WIPs. And I also take [Prompts](https://pasmonblog.tumblr.com/post/635410523601649664) if you’re looking for something specific.
> 
> Thanks again for all the support 💜


End file.
